Second Glances
by Saturn Girl
Summary: After Buffy overhears a conversation between Xander and Dawn, stuff happens. B/X


Title: Second Glances  
Author: Saturn Girl  
Feedback: saturngirl9@hotmail.com  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Xander  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Buffy, Xander, and a heat wave. Stuff happens.  
  
Dedication: To Ozmandayus and Lori Bush, reigning King and Queen of the B/X   
fic genre. Thanks for the beta assist on this one, I greatly appreciate it.   
And to Mod, for not thinking I'm too insane to try this 'ship.  
  
Written from Buffy's POV.  
  
=====================================  
  
Good God, is it hot! Triple digit, humid, make-my-hair-do-really-funky-things hot. The weather guy said that Sunnydale is in the midst of the worst heat wave we've had in a decade. So naturally, some stupid, clumsy monster has to attack my home and destroy my air conditioner!   
  
Well, okay, to be honest...I did kinda hurl him against it. Ooh! Why didn't I boot him into the hedge instead? I really need to work on my aim. Or perhaps pad my entire house with a protective layer of foam rubber. Hmm. Would that work? Considering how many times my house has been wrecked by monsters, demons and zombies, that may not be such a bad idea.   
  
Evil forces are plotting against me, I'm sure of it. Like those bloodsucking vampires who work at the credit card company that just jacked up my rates, and the diabolical car mechanic who charged me $800 to fix my alternator. Coincidence? I think not. Somewhere out there is a filthy lucre-loving demon making damn sure I can't afford a new air conditioner for at least another two months.  
  
My ingenious plan to keep us from melting to death? A complex array of fans positioned in strategic spots around the house, and lots of cold lemonade. I'm not sure if lemonade really helps cool people off, but it just seems like the appropriate thing to drink on a really sultry day. Like hot chocolate on cold winter nights, it's one of those weather-related beverage clichés.  
  
While I'm in the kitchen squeezing fresh lemons for some old-fashioned ade, I can hear Dawn and Xander working on the broken front door. We've been doing the Bob Vila thing for the past three hours, fixing the damage from last night's siege on Fort Summers. Well, Xander is, anyway. Neither Dawn or I are very handy-woman-esque. We mostly watch, listen and hand him tools.  
  
"...hand me that framing square, would ya? Thanks, Dawnie. You know, hanging a door is a lot trickier than it looks, especially in earthquake-prone California. Add one 750 pound Plordak demon busting through without knocking, and you've got yourself a less than square doorframe."  
  
"I'll say. It's not a square, it's a rectangle."  
  
"Actually, at the moment, it looks more like a rhombus. Man, that was one big demon. I'm surprised he fit through the door at all."  
  
"He didn't. After he knocked down the door, he took one look at Buffy's freakish monkey face covered with cucumber mask, and he ran screaming for the hills."  
  
"Hey!" I peek around the corner to let them know I can hear them. "It wasn't the facial! It was the big war axe and my imposing Slayer presence that scared him!"  
  
From her perch on the step stool in the front hallway, Dawn snorts and rolls her eyes at me. "Whatever. You didn't look very "imposing" in your fluffy cloud pajamas to me. I'm sticking with the monkey face theory."  
  
Xander wipes the sweat from his brow and flashes me a grin before raising his arms over his head and continuing his inspection of the doorframe. It's so nice to see him smiling, to see him happy again. It looks good on him. He's not wearing the plaid work shirt anymore, just a white tank, and for a second I'm reminded of that hot, thirsty construction worker in the old Diet Coke commercial, as I linger on the perspiration glistening on his muscled...  
  
Whoops, stopping this thought now! That's Xander standing there looking all muscled and sweaty, and I'm not supposed to ogle my best friends. I mean, I've always thought he was good looking, but in a boyish way. I typically go for guys who are older. Lots older. But now...when did Xander become such a grown up manly man?   
  
Hoping that he didn't notice me staring, I quickly pop my head back into the kitchen to get back to the citrus slaying.  
  
*sigh*  
  
Me thinks I've been man-free for way, way too long. After living like a cloistered nun for almost a year, my hormones are breaking down the convent doors. And I've been hanging out with him so much lately, it's getting harder and harder to remind myself that he's just my Xander-shaped friend. Especially when he wears those jeans that fit really snug around his...  
  
Hoo-boy. Lemonade. I'm making lemonade. I'm not thinking about anything except ways to cool down. I'd better bring that big fan back into the kitchen. Make it two big fans.  
  
Now where'd I put the sugar? I'm sure I put some in one of the blue canisters...found it. Is this all we have left? Hmm. I guess it'll be enough.   
  
You know, I should do something nice for Xander besides just make him lunch and lemonade. It's really sweet that he's using his only day off this week to help me work on the house, and in this god-awful heat, no less. But that's Xander for you. Whenever you need him, he's there. He's even getting me a special deal on a new window to replace the one Mr. Clumsy Demon smashed last night. Thank goodness for Xander and his connections, or I wouldn't be able to pay for it.  
  
How many times has he come through for me? I've lost track. I'll never forget the brave, loyal Scooby stuff, but there are so many little kindnesses. Finding a $50 bill tucked into my purse on the same day I mentioned I needed to buy Dawnie some new school clothes. Not killing me when I accidentally backed his brand new car into the mailbox. Listening to my "all men are evil, lying, worthless scum" rant without one word of contradiction after my fling with Spike exploded. What would I ever do without him?   
  
I hear Xander shifting the new door around in its opening, and the whirring click of a tape measure retracting. "Hmm. Looks like I'm going to need to adjust the split jamb casing, otherwise the new door will scrape along here, see? I need to make sure it hangs well in the frame, so it won't stick when you close it."  
  
Tapping, pounding, drilling, shuffling.  
  
"Okay, how's it look?" he asks.  
  
"Mmm hmm. Good," responds Dawn thoughtfully. "From where I'm sitting, you look perfectly well hung to me."  
  
I hear a loud thump, followed by a grunt and a hiss, and I realize Xander must have dropped something on his foot. One thing I've learned over the years is that although Xander can dish out the suggestive teasing, he sure can't take it. I wish I could see the look on his face, because I can practically feel his blush radiating from the next room. I can't help but giggle.  
  
"Oops, I meant...the door! That's a very well hung door. And you really know how to hang them well, 'cause you're such a good carpenter and all..."  
  
Oh, yeah. Smooth recovery, Dawn. *grin*  
  
"Uh, thanks. So," Xander drawls, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Looking forward to being a senior, kiddo? There's tons of fun waiting for you this year! Off campus lunches...hanging in the senior quad...gigantic snakes demolishing the school..."  
  
"I'll pass on the senior year snake experience. But I'm looking forward to seeing all my friends again after the summer. Some more than others. Well, one in particular."  
  
"Uh huh. Let me guess. Falling at the top of the Must See list is the esteemed Troy Haversham, the guy you've been raving about all summer."  
  
Troy. Troy. Troy. I swear, every other word out of Dawn's mouth these days is "Troy." Was I ever that obsessed when I was 17?  
  
"What's not to rave about? He is SO gorgeous, Xander. You should see him...his hair, his eyes, his tight little butt..."  
  
"Whoa, Nellie! I know everyone thinks of me like I'm just one of the girls, but I draw the line at talking about cute boy characteristics. I get the picture. You think he's a hottie."  
  
"He's beyond hottie. He's perfect! From the first moment I saw him in Mrs. Jenkins' English class, I knew I was in love. When he read that sonnet aloud in class, it was like he was talking just to me. He's the one. My destiny." Dawn sighed, and her dreamy voice lowered to a grumble. "He just doesn't know it yet."  
  
"Sounds like you've got it bad. A serious case of love-at-first-sight-itus."  
  
"A terminal case. Troy is too busy going with Monique to realize I'm even a factor. It kills me when I see those two together. Monique is so shallow, she's only dating him because he's rich and popular and incredibly handsome..."  
  
"Weren't you just expounding on the virtues of Troy's cute butt just a few seconds ago, oh Deep One?" he teased.  
  
"Well, okay. Sue me, I think he's attractive. But I see the real Troy that she doesn't. The one who hides under the bleachers and writes his own poetry. The one who gave his lunch to a homeless woman in the park. He's a kind, wonderful person, and I love that I get that about him. So why doesn't he see the same wonderfulness in me?"  
  
"Who says he won't? Have you talked to him? Take a chance. Ask him out."  
  
"I can't do that! What if he rejects me? Ugh! I'd die of embarrassment."  
  
"I thought you already had a terminal case, so what's it going to hurt? Look. I believe in love at first sight. I had a bad case of it myself. Knocked me clean off my skateboard, it was so powerful. But just because Troy's too dumb to realize how special you are now, it doesn't mean he never will. Because I also believe in love at second glance."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You have much to learn, Grasshopper. Come, let the Master school you in the ways of the heart." I hear Xander put down his tools and hunker down near Dawn.  
  
*grin*  
  
Oh, this ought to be good. Xander the Love Doctor is making house calls again. It's been a long time since I've heard him dole out relationship advice. Let him lecture Dawnie instead of me, for a change! I squeeze more lemons and pick out the stray seeds from the juicer.   
  
"It's like this. Falling in love takes many forms. Sometimes it's immediate, a lightning strike that ignites a flash fire that burns so hot it consumes you. In an instant, you realize you'd give up oxygen, food, and your entire baseball card collection to spend one moment with her, but at the same time, forever doesn't seem long enough. All logic and common sense is sucked out of your body, and you become a complete bibbling idiot."  
  
"Yeah! That's exactly what it felt like when I saw Troy. Like I'd been squished by a steamroller. And the first time I talked with him, I thought I was going to swallow my own tongue."  
  
"I can relate. But that's not the only way to fall in love. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you're not paying attention. Love can be a gradual thing that grows over time, strengthening and deepening until it finally becomes just as powerful as the lightning strike. That's how it went with me and Anya."  
  
"Get out! I thought you and Anya were always nuts about each other."  
  
"Not in the beginning. When we first met, she was hanging out with Harmony and all those snooty popular girls who always looked at me like I was toilet paper stuck to the bottom of their shoes. That's what I figured Anya was, a big flaky snob. Finding out that she used to be a vengeance demon didn't earn her any points in my book, either. I really wasn't too keen on going out with her, believe me, but neither one of us wanted to go to Prom stag. When we scraped the bottom of the dating barrel, we came up with each other."  
  
"But you had a great time, right?"  
  
"Wrong! It was a terrible first date! Trapped listening to her vivid tales of evisceration and decapitation, I wanted to chew my own arm off and flee," Xander laughed. "Despite her bad first impressions, she piqued my curiosity, and I wanted to try to understand her. From far away, she looked like just another flake. No different from any of the other self absorbed princesses in school. But the thing with snowflakes is that you don't see how special they are until you look at 'em close up.   
  
When I really paid attention to Anya, I discovered her uniqueness, and I liked what I saw. The snowflake started to snowball until it eventually turned into an avalanche, and then I was overwhelmed. Completely, totally in love with her. I never thought it was possible to love Anya as much as I did."  
  
The house grows quieter for a moment, the fluttering of fans the only sound in the air.  
  
"It takes a special kind of guy to make a man-hating ex-demon love him," Dawn tells him softly. "She loved you so much. You were everything to her, Xander."  
  
"Thanks. If feels nice...talking about her. It helps me remember all the good stuff. And falling in love with her was nothing but good stuff."  
  
You'd think I was slicing onions instead of lemons, because my eyes are all watery as I listen to him talk about Anya. They were supposed to live happily ever after, the ones to prove that we're not all destined for broken hearts and failed relationships. They came really close.  
  
But late one day, while all his co-workers were going home to their families, I had to visit Xander's construction site and tell him she was gone. Car wreck. Dead at the scene. No drunk driver, no negligence, and no one to blame. Just a senseless accident.  
  
All the years I've known him, Xander always tried to be so strong, covering up his pain with sarcasm or silence. But that horrible day, it was like his grief stripped him naked, and he melted in my arms, hiding nothing. I'd never seen Xander cry before.   
  
That was more than a year ago. It wasn't until I began spending more time with Xander, helping him deal with her death, that I realized how much I'd missed being with him. If there's an upside to the tragedy, it's that we recaptured the closeness we'd had as kids, but somehow lost as we struggled to become grown ups.   
  
God, look at me! Standing here, getting all weepy and serious in front of the lemons. I should be pleased for Xander now that he's coming to terms with losing Anya. But hearing him talk about falling in love...it reminded me of something I'd almost forgotten.  
  
The skateboard. The first time Xander saw me. He wasn't just talking about Anya. He was also talking about falling in love with me.  
  
Stir the lemonade. Don't think about it. We were kids. It was just a crush. There were a few times where something almost happened, where it could have become more, but the timing never quite worked out. Besides, that torch burned out a long, long time ago, and he doesn't feel that way about me anymore. And even if he did...   
  
"...that's what I mean about love at second glance. Sometimes you look a little closer, dig a little deeper, and end up falling in love with someone you never expected. It can happen to you. Maybe he doesn't notice you now, but be patient. Spend time with him, and be yourself. Show Poetry Boy that you're his little snowflake, and I bet he'll come around."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"Trust me. Troy won't know what hit him."  
  
Ice. Ice. Need some ice. I tug open the freezer door. Ah! That feels so good. Cool. I could stand in front of the freezer all day. I pull out the ice, wiping away the frozen flakes covering the plastic bag.  
  
Flakes. Snowflakes. He's right. They do look different when you stop and look at them.   
  
Dawn calls out from the other room. "Hey, Buffy! Exactly how long does it take to make lemonade, anyway? It's 400 degrees in here, we could use a little liquid refreshment!"  
  
"Almost ready!" I dump some ice into the pitcher and give the lemonade a final stir. Looks good to me. I fill up a couple glasses and wander into the front hallway. Dawn's still on her stool, and Xander's on the ground across from her, leaning back against the wall.  
  
He's fanning himself with a yellow piece of paper that he's written some measurements on. He smiles at me again, and impossibly, the room starts to feel even hotter. In that shirt, you can see all the curves of his neck and collarbone, and I have this sudden urge to trace the line from shoulder to shoulder, see if I can make him shiver even in this heat. Get him to drop the toolbelt and...  
  
Oh. My. God. I'm having cheap romance novel fantasies about the sexy handyman, and the sexy handyman is Xander! It's the heat. I'm getting delusional because of the heat.  
  
"Thirsty?" I squeak, pushing all my naughty Xander-thoughts to the back of my mind.  
  
"Thanks! You're the best, Buff. Whew, is it a scorcher today, or what?" Xander and Dawn both grab a glass. They pause and look at each other before taking a sip.  
  
"Did you remember the sugar this time?" asks Dawn suspiciously, sniffing her glass.  
  
"Yes! I put in a ton. I *know* how to make lemonade."  
  
She still looks doubtful, but Xander gulps down half the glass...and promptly chokes. In a fit of sputtering, he spills half the juice down his shirt. Dawn looks at Xander, then at her glass, and with a wrinkled nose she sets it down on the ground beside her.  
  
"Salt!" Xander gasps, his face screwed up in a disgusted grimace. "You...you used SALT!"  
  
"Oh! I am SO sorry! How did that happen? I guess I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. Oh...you're not gonna yack, are you?"  
  
I give him a hand and pull him to his feet. He smacks his lips, trying to rid himself of the taste as he wipes his chin. "No, no, I'm good. But maybe I could get some plain, non-saline ice water?"  
  
Dawn hops off the stool. "I'd better get it. She might forget which of the two taps controls the cold water." With a teasing grin and a flip of the hair, she runs off into the kitchen.  
  
So much for me doing anything nice for Xander today. While I apologize again for being a complete anti-Martha Stewart, a big white truck marked "Mortenson's Glass" pulls up to our driveway.   
  
"Morty!" Xander heads outside to greet the driver. A tall, broad-shouldered black man with graying hair clambers out of the rig. He's wearing a pair of blue coveralls, and a Seattle Seahawks cap. "Hey, man. How'd your fishing trip go?"  
  
"Fantastic." He claps Xander on the back. "Caught my limit every day. You should see the 28-pounder I pulled in! Whooey. What a fighter." He has a square face, a friendly sparkle in his eye, and a smile that invites you inside for supper. I like him immediately.   
  
Xander's friend grins at me and holds out his hand. "Well! You must be Buffy. Harris has told me all about you. Pleased to meet you, I'm Bill Mortenson. But any friend of this man's is a friend of mine, so you can call me Morty."  
  
I shake his hand. "Hi. Nice to meet you, too." Hmm. What has Xander been saying about me, exactly? Apparently not anything Slayerish. Morty isn't looking at me like he's scared I'm going to poke him with a wooden stick, or that a monster could jump up at any moment and attack us.  
  
"My, that's one firm grip you got there, little lady!" He pulls a palm pilot out of the front pocket of his coveralls. "Let's see...I've got you down for a double-paned Futuron premium window system with the multiple insulating air chambers and the double barrier-fin weather-stripping, model number X31203."  
  
"Uh...is it made of glass that I can see through?" I ask. "That's the extent of my expertise in this area."  
  
"Trust me, Buff. It's a window. And the very same kind already installed in the house. I did my homework." Xander pats my shoulder. "We'll take it."  
  
"Harris tells me you got hit by some vandals last night." He takes in the smashed up remains of my front porch. "Looks like they really did a number. Whooey, I tell you...Sunnydale sure doesn't have any shortage of hellraisers."   
  
"You've got that right." Xander and I share a secretive smile.   
  
He gestures at Xander. "C'mon. Quit your lollygagging and help me get the window from the back."  
  
"Thanks a bunch for coming out on such short notice, Morty. I owe you one."   
  
"Nothing doing. You really came through for me with that big Jensen contract, so I'm glad to return the favor. You ever need anything, you don't hesitate to give old Morty a call, understand?" He selects a cellophane wrapped pane and nods at Xander to pick up the opposite end. "Hey, so what's this I hear about you getting a big fat job offer from Rigby Construction? That's one stellar outfit, son. A great opportunity."   
  
"You got a promotion? That's wonderful!" I exclaim. "Why didn't you tell us? Should I be planning a major celebratory blow out for this evening?  
  
"Yeah, well, um...I'm not going to take it." Xander looks sheepish as he helps Morty lower the window from the truck, a little embarrassed that I'd found out.  
  
"What? Are you crazy?" replies Morty. "Rigby pays top dollar, and they'll even kick in their own money for specialized training. A smart, hard-working man like you could go really far in that organization."  
  
"Too far. They wanted me to relocate to San Jose. I can't say I wasn't tempted. Big green dollar signs were definitely floating in front of my eyes when they made me the offer. But I couldn't accept. Sunnydale is my home."  
  
"Well, whatever floats your boat, Harris. But I can understand why you might have reason to stay. Sunnydale certainly has its attractions." As they carry the window up to the house, Morty gives me a knowing wink.  
  
Whoa. I'm not sure what to think. Should I be yelling at Xander for not taking the job? He works so hard, he deserves a nice big raise. He really loves his work, and learning as much as he can about the trade. Why shouldn't he go for it?   
  
But San Jose? That's over three hours away. I'd hardly ever see him anymore. Is it selfish of me to want him to stay?  
  
Morty hands me his palm pilot so I can sign the invoice. He and Xander babble about a whole bunch of construction related stuff that makes absolutely no sense to me, but it's clear that Xander seems to know what he's talking about, and that he's earned the respect of this guy who looks like he's been in the business a long time. As they're talking about the most efficient way to repair the window damage, Dawn steps out onto the porch, and offers Morty and Xander some ice water.   
  
"Why, thank you, missy!" They guzzle down the drinks, and Morty gives Xander a friendly punch in the arm as Dawn scoots back indoors. "You sure know how to find yourself some pretty friends."  
  
"Well, shoot, Morty, why do you think I like you so much?" Xander grins and bats his eyelashes at the man, eliciting a round of hearty guffaws. They have a very comfortable, easy-going rapport, and it's strange to think that Xander has friends that I know nothing about. Sometimes I forget that Xander has a life outside of the Scooby Gang, one that doesn't involve vampires, magic, or saving the world from this week's apocalypse. Whenever I think I know everything there is to know about Xander, I see some new little wrinkle I've never seen before.  
  
Morty pats Xander on the back again. "Bring that famous appetite of yours by my shop tomorrow, I'll set you up with some smoked salmon. And tell Waverly that the order for the Nathan Avenue site will be filled by Tuesday."  
  
"Sure thing. Take it easy." Xander waves goodbye and hauls the window into the house.  
  
I hand the palm pilot back to Morty. "Thanks again. Think he can get that window replaced by nightfall?"  
  
"You don't need to worry about a thing. Harris will treat you right, little lady." He tips his hat to me and climbs into his truck.   
  
Yeah, he always does.  
  
The truck backs out of the driveway, and I trek back into the living room, where Xander is busy pulling out the old, broken pane. "Why did you do that?"  
  
He wrinkles his brow and gives me a puzzled look. "Uh...because it's busted, and I'm putting in the new one."  
  
"No. The job. Your friend made it sound like it was the brass ring. A great opportunity, and you gave it up. I'd like to know the reason why." I stand in front of him. A big box fan sitting on the coffee table stirs up the air, and our hair and clothes flutter in the artificial breeze.  
  
He looks down at me with those gorgeous eyes of his. They're the most luscious shade of brown I've ever known, rich with all the warm, gentle qualities that make him so special. Sometimes Xander stutters or holds something back when he speaks, but never with his eyes. I know the answer before he even opens his mouth.  
  
"Everyone I love is right here."  
  
Something inside of me knocks loose, and that one last barrier preventing me from seeing him as more than a friend comes crashing down, plowed over by an avalanche of realizations. Why not Xander? He's the only man I've ever known who's never left me, who's always been there whenever I needed him. He's seen me at my worst as well as my best, but he's still here. He's proven time and again that he would do anything for me, yet he's never expected anything in return. He respects me, my mission, and he isn't threatened by the fact that I'm more than capable of kicking his ass. He's kind, generous, funny, unbelievably sexy...and he's standing right in front of me telling me he's still in love with me, after all these years.  
  
I reach up and touch his lip, feeling the slight intake of air as I slowly rub my finger along the soft curves.   
  
"W-what are you doing?" he whispers, gently cupping my raised wrist, touching me like he's trying to prove I'm not a mirage. He doesn't push my hand away, but closes his eyes, and his lips pulse nervously against my finger.  
  
"This." When I stretch up to kiss him, he does shiver. He stands there trembling for a moment, stunned that I've done this, and with a sweet, tentative slowness, he embraces me, enveloping me in his arms, and returns the kiss. With every passing second, he abandons more of his reluctance and gives himself to me.   
  
Oh my God...I can't believe I'm kissing him. Xander. And there is most definitely sparkage! So much heat, we could bust the thermostat. His intensity surprises me. Raw, hungry, not even remotely best friend-like, and I want this. I want him. How can someone so familiar feel so exciting and new?   
  
He breaks away from the kiss, a million questions dancing across his lips. He stammers, not sure which one to ask first. He's so damn cute when he's flustered. I pull him in for another kiss instead of waiting for him to talk. Talking can come later. I just want to enjoy the feel of him for a bit longer, savor the newness. I cup his butt and give it a nice squeeze, and giggle and smile against his lips when he yelps. Man, I've wanted to do that all day! Hmm...I wonder what else I can do to make him cry out like that?  
  
"Buffy," he murmurs, as he strokes my hair and nuzzles his forehead against mine. "Please tell me this isn't a heatstroke induced hallucination."  
  
"No hallucination. No Willow spell gone awry. Just a big old light bulb going off over my head."  
  
He caresses my cheek. "You really kissed me. Is this a sign of the upcoming apocalypse? Should I expect to see a rain of toads or something?"  
  
"No toads, and no end of the world, but possibly the beginning of a really big avalanche. I propose we find shelter very soon." I nibble his neck, and slide my hand up and down his back. Mmmm. He tastes so good! No wonder the other girls couldn't keep their hands off of him. I think I'm going to get addicted to him very quickly.  
  
"Avalanche? What are you talking about? It's 100 degrees in the shade and...oh." He smiles when he catches the reference. "Eavesdropper."  
  
I give him my innocent schoolgirl look. "No, Master. It's Grasshopper, and you must school me in the ways of your heart. Tell me, do you give private lessons?"  
  
"Well, since you asked me so nicely, I think I could be persuaded to tutor you." He waggles his eyebrow at me.   
  
I nearly rip Xander's arm off tugging him up the stairs. Sister Buffy Anne won't be wearing her wimple tonight. Or much of anything, for that matter, and neither will the sexy handyman. I'm suddenly filled with ideas on how to show my appreciation for Xander, things he'll enjoy a lot more than my awful lemonade. As I slam the door to my bedroom, I can hear Dawn laughing on her phone.  
  
"Willow! Pay up. If finally happened. Jeez...eight years. What took them so long? I hope Troy gets a clue a lot faster than Buffy did!"   
  
  
===== END ===== 


End file.
